THE EDITORS SURVIVE!: New York’s Pulse-Pounding Earthquake

Just now, editors Jennifer Wright and Ashley Cardiff survived (a totally gentle, almost imperceptible aftershock of) A TERRIFYING EARTHQUAKE. Once Jennifer’s breathing returned to normal, she and (California-bred) Ashley had a quick post-mortem about this not remotely devastating event.

Jennifer: OMG THAT WAS FUCKING TERRIFYING THE GROUND WAS LIKE ‘HI, I AM MOVING YOUR BUILDINGS AROUND.’

Ashley: That wasn’t an earthquake. That was a reach-around. From Virginia.

Jennifer: THAT WAS THE BEGINING OF THE END. JOHN CUSACK IS HOVERBOARDING RIGHT NOW. SOMEWHERE.

Ashley: Maybe you can’t be reasoned with right now.

Jennifer: IT WAS REGARDLESS QUITE FRIGHTENING. THE EARTH DIPPED. AND OUR BUILDINGS IN NEW YORK ARE NOT PREPARED FOR THIS.

Jennifer: So, when there is another Earthquake we should… run into the streets? Being killed under a collapsing building is my maybe 42nd worst fear.

Ashley:You’re afraid of being crushed? I tend to think most people just have this pervasive, abject dread about the ground not being stable. Like, to be rent from this idea you take for granted everyday. I guess I thought the panic was more of a sudden poisoning of the blood, not anxiety rooted in reason.

Jennifer: No, no, I don’t want a building to collapse on me. Imagine how awful it would be. Lying in rubble. You might be there for hours, or days, just slowly… expiring. HOW DO WE GET ALL OUR BUILDINGS RETROFITTED? Is it true they evacuated everyone on Park avenue? Where to?

Ashley: That was a hilarious rumor, but maybe there’s a special earthquake refugee place? Probably some place in Midtown where everyone can replace their Blahniks because now they’ve sweated in them and effectively ruined the lining. We should donate prosecco and Perrier to them, in the wake of this horrible tragedy.

At least this experience taught us about the human toll.

Jennifer: Ashley, it’s not a joke. My mug rattled around on my desk and tipped over a little bit.

Ashley: No it didn’t.

Jennifer: Yes, it did.

Ashley: Don’t just lie, Jennifer.

Jennifer: It went rattle, rattle, rattle, almost tip, rattle. True, it did not tip over all the way, but that’s because I righted it.

Ashley: You sent a message to God that you weren’t to be toyed with.

Jennifer: I said “God, this ceramic Mad Men mug from Banana Republic? This baby isn’t going to die.” I think that’s what bravery is.

Fuck you, God.

Ashley: That and benevolence under pressure. How is your heart so big?

Jennifer: I want you to know that when I ran to the door and asked your permission to leave the building – well, that’s the kind of cool-headed thinking I’ll always exhibit under stress. I’m not saying this for your benefit so much as I’m saying it so I can be invited to go to the Park Avenue Winner’s Secret Shelter next time.

Ashley: Remember how I just sat there, confused? Because I am from the land of earthquakes and just felt a surge of fondness? Remember how I watched you shatter? I’m sorry I failed you like that. I was Icarus. Prideful, pridfeul Icarus.